


Right Here

by stuffilikeiwrite



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drama, Esb, Gen, Skywalker Fam at it again, alternate take on their meeting, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:08:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24049444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuffilikeiwrite/pseuds/stuffilikeiwrite
Summary: This kid didnotknow when to give up. That much was clear, as he once again attacked blindly.
Relationships: Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader
Comments: 16
Kudos: 152





	Right Here

This kid did _not_ know when to give up. That much was clear, as he once again attacked blindly. 

He was too clumsy in his motions; too slow, and too uncoordinated. Vader easily dodged the attack from the blue blade of the kid's saber - _his_ saber - by side stepping him and watching the boy whirl around in confusion; stumbling over his own two feet. His face was drenched in sweat, his matted dark blonde hair clinging to his forehead. Still, his brow was furrowed in determination, blue eyes burning with an intense fury. 

Vader could at least appreciate _that_.

Still, as the kid panted for breath and made another unsuccessful attempt at lashing out; striking carelessly in front of himself as if waving around a stick or bat; Vader easily blocked each and every blow with a swift flick of the wrist. He needn't even bother using both hands; the boy was weak, and he kept hacking away with his weapon like a meat cleaver. Untrained in saber technique, which was hardly surprise. Obi Wan must have died before he had any chance to help the boy excel in his training.

Conscious of his own trap, Vader allowed the boy to _believe_ he was gaining ground by taking a couple of steps backwards; still effortlessly shielding himself. Then there was an all too clear opening. As the kid raised his saber high, overconfident; attempting to bring it down full force by applying his entire body weight to the swing - Vader simply met the strike midair to swat the blade aside.

The boy lost his footing, wavering when caught off guard. That was enough for Vader. Unceremoniously, and without any restraint; he delivered well placed backhand to the side of the kid's exposed jaw.

There was a loud popping noise at the impact; before the boy went flying haphazardly through the air. The saber flew out of his now slack grip; skidding away across the floor. A loud huff left the kid's lungs as he landed head first; getting the air knocked out of him while he tumbled haplessly around a couple of times before coming to an abrupt halt. He gasped for breath; taking way too long to even move at all. Had Vader _wanted_ to; the kid would have been swiftly dispatched and beheaded at this point. 

Still, he merely watched silently as the boy trembled while struggling to get back up on his feet. He rolled over onto his side; arms and legs wobbling beneath his weight while he willed himself to stand. 

Still, he winced and sank down into a half kneeling position. Face obscured by the shaggy mop of disheveled golden strands; one palm placed against his own thigh for support; gripping it tight. Shoulders heaving; pearls of sweat dripping from his chin. Vader narrowed his eyes as those droplets landed on the leg of the boy's beige jumpsuit; staining it crimson. 

_Blood_.

The boy looked up then; dazed blue eyes cold as ice and hard set, still the watery sheen of tears pooling at the corners of them caught the scarce light. Dark blood gushing out of both his nostrils; smearing across the bottom half of his face as the kid used his free arm to swipe at the mess of fluids. Vader noticed that his bottom lip appeared to be split open, as well. 

The suspicions were confirmed when he watched the boy lick his lips a couple of times, grimace in pain and promptly spit. More blood, more saliva, and the boy wiped himself with his sleeve again.

"Leia was right," he hissed, pausing only to gather some more blood mixed saliva and spit again. "You _are_ a monster."

"The princess is the one fighting on the _wrong_ side of the law. I'd hardly suggest using _her_ as an idol of morals," said Vader, pursing what remained of his lips under the mask; his tone booming and overpowering.

Still, the boy didn't flinch. 

Vader watched him swallow hard, his adam's apple bobbing visibly. Noted that the blood flow was beginning to slow; now simply oozing in lazy half clotted globs down his upper lip. A dark bruise was already starting to form across the right cheekbone and lower eye socket area. The brow was split, too, in a manner _far_ too similar to another young man Vader remembered.

As the boy reached out his hand in a final act of defiance; grasping for his weapon through the Force - it came flying at his call. But the shock, and subsequent _horror_ , on the boy's features was unmistakable as it shot past him - right into _Vader's_ free, awaiting open clutches. This time, the kid's shoulders did sag a bit in defeat; a look of exasperation etching itself onto his features; watery eyes gleaming.

Still, Vader's interest in the boy waned momentarily as he glanced down at the saber hilt cradled in his gloved fist. It was irrefutable now, if he had been only _suspecting_ the weapon to be familiar before; this was all evidence he needed. Even the weight and the feel of the cylindrical saber in his hand brought back familiar physical memories. 

Slowly, Vader looked back up at the crestfallen boy; caught him rubbing the tears out of his eyes with his palm when he thought it wouldn't be noticed.

"Now, you _will_ reveal to me why you are wielding the saber of Anakin Skywalker."

The boy bared his blood stained teeth; a flush of strain and embarrassment colouring his cheeks as he withdrew his hand quickly. His eyes were burning with hatred; nose wrinkled in a manner that must be painful given its battered state. 

"You would know why, you _killed_ him," he spat, finally managing to make himself get up and stand on unsteady legs; limbs quaking underneath his frail frame.

"I _killed_ him?"

Vader could only stare in wide eyed awe at the boy; the only response for the longest moment being several intervals of his respiratory system. That, and the boy's sniveling before he spat once more at the expanse of durasteel floor between them. Then, it was the kid that spoke up.

"Yes. _You_. Ben told me everything. He told me that my father was a Jedi, and that you killed him after The Clone Wars; him and the rest of the Jedi Order."

The boy's tone was cool, cutting and sharp. Still, Vader took little notice as the shock began to settle in and the realization of what those words meant dawned on him. 

Anakin Skywalker was this boy's _father_? 

Vader let both hands fall slack to his sides; turning off his own red saber as if on autopilot. He stared blankly at the red tinted image of the kid’s blood stained boyish features; the gore amplified by the lenses of his own face plate. It was all _so clear_ now. The angular face, the dimpled chin, the piercing blue eyes. Although, the expression of stubborn defiance belonged not to Anakin. That was _all Padmé_. The resemblance to her was uncanny, especially as the corners of the boy's lips were drawn into a nasty snarl.

"Anakin Skywalker was your _father_."

"Yes, as if you even _remember_ taking his life! Who knows how many people you have killed," the boy bravely snapped back; one leg buckling beneath him but he refused to go down, forcing himself to stagger slightly forwards in order to remain standing - the snarl having reopened his wounded lower lip.

"I remember him."

Vader's tone was empty, but behind the mask his head was spinning. Padmé had died, by _his_ hand. _Before_ she had given birth. Yet, as he searched the Force for answers; it told him that the boy was honest. This was Anakin's son; who had not only survived the birth, but lived to grow up and thrive. Lived to become a young man, strong yet untrained with the Force. A diamond in the rough. 

"I _will_ avenge him. Or die trying."

The intent in the boy's eyes was clear; as he curled his hands into tight fists and straightened up. He meant every word. A leftover, dark glob of blood trailed down his jawline; and suddenly the pang of something almost akin to _remorse_ squeezed tightly at Vader's chest. 

He realized he had forgotten what guilt and regret felt like, after all these years of being numb. After all these years of suffering constant agony nothing earthly could ever exceed. And he _remembered_ what Padmé had always wanted to name her son. Knew that there was no way this boy would be going by any other name.

"There is no need to avenge anybody, _Luke_."

Indeed, at the sound of his name; the boy’s head flew up and he flinched, glassy eyes growing wide. Startled, hesitant, and _confused_. He was beginning to doubt himself; and a clear string of curiosity now mingled with the saturated _contempt_ emanating from him.

"How - _how_ do you know my name?" Luke stuttered after a long pause, his voice barely carrying above a whisper as his eyes darted all across Vader's mask; desperate for answers.

When Vader finally replied, he did not hold back.

"Because your father is right _here_.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, I have written a slightly similarly themed fic before, but this one came about through the notes in my Vader backhanding gif post over at tumblr written by @spell-cleaver where they mentioned how they wanted to write/read something based on the theme of _“Luke getting slapped around, spitting blood and insults”_. 
> 
> Hence, this was born with their permission and blessings. 
> 
> I hope it’s somewhat enjoyable!


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